


Untitled

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Blood Kink, Bloodplay, Cutting, Knifeplay, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-23
Updated: 2013-08-23
Packaged: 2017-12-24 09:05:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/938133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was just a short thing I wrote. Jim wants to play and Sebastian is willing. I don't even know how to describe it or anything. IDK. I didn't even edit it and kinda rushed the ending because it was supposed to be a short thing and was getting long.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled

Jim slid his tongue along his bottom lip, eyeing the sniper across the room with darkened eyes. Sebastian sat there, cleaning his knives - Jim had wanted a _message_ sent with this recent kill - and had no clue what was brewing in the depths of Jim’s mind, no clue what sort of plan Jim was concocting. The way Sebastian’s knives had slid against the skin of the girl, the way the blood had pearled and ran in rivulets down her mottled skin, well, let’s just say that Jim was more than a little bit _interested_. More than a little bit _aroused_ , even.

“Sebastian,” Jim purred, finally speaking up. Sebastian’s head slowly rose and his eyes found Jim’s.

“Yeah, Boss?” Sebastian asked, swallowing hard. The look in Jim’s eyes was hard to decipher, and his tone even more so. While it could be that his boss was playing around with him, it could also be that he had angered Jim in some way... or it could be that Jim was in _that_ sort of mood. And if he were in that sort of mood, it might not end well for Sebastian. Oh, he generally _enjoyed_ it, of course, _during_ it, but then when he was having to sit in a meeting with a bunch of morons - something difficult enough when feeling well - the constant stinging wasn’t good for his concentration. Last time he had lost concentration, Jim had been creative to say the least. He wasn’t inclined to go looking for a repeat.

“Don’t look so _worried,_ Tiger. We’re going to have _fun~_ Take your knives into the bedroom, mm? I’ll be there in a few moments.” Jim turned away from Sebastian, not even waiting to see his reaction before going into the kitchen.

Sebastian straightened in his seat and looked down at the knives. _Dammit. He’d just gotten them cleaned._ But disobeying a direct order from the boss was never a wise move, so Sebastian picked them up and went to their bedroom.

A few minutes later, Jim entered the room with a glass of wine in his hand. “Strip, Tiger,” he ordered softly. Some men used a sharp tone of voice for commands, but even spoken softly, Jim’s commands were to be obeyed.

Thus, it was without a moment’s hesitation, without a conscious thought that Sebastian’s hands went to his shirt, deft fingers unbuttoning with grace. While sometimes Jim wanted Sebastian undressed as quickly as possible, one didn’t become this close to Jim Moriarty without learning his moods. Jim wanted a _show._

It was with that thought that Sebastian proceeded, that thought that made him do things he wouldn’t do for any other person on earth. But Jim _owned_ him, heart, body, soul, the whole nine yards. Sebastian had known when he signed up that it was a life contract, that he couldn’t ever leave, that he would be killed if he tried to leave, but he hadn’t realized that the day would come that he would rather die than contemplate leaving.

A smile played about Jim’s lips, teasing, never _quite_ making its way across Jim’s face. Always just barely out of reach. Still, Sebastian could tell that he was enjoying it. Another few moments later and Sebastian was undressed, standing tall before Jim. He wasn’t ashamed of his scars, wasn’t ashamed of his body - no, in fact, he was rather proud of it, and it was nothing Jim hadn’t seen before.

“Give me one of the knives, Tiger,” Jim murmured, watching him with a pleased glint in his eyes.

Sebastian hastened to obey, because it was in the bedroom most of all that Jim owned him, in the bedroom most of all that he would do anything for Jim. (Though of course, that wasn’t to say he wouldn’t _die_ for him if the need arose outside the bedroom)

As Jim took the knife, his thumb brushed against Sebastian’s hand and lingered there for a moment longer than necessary merely to retrieve the knife. “Good boy, Tiger.”

Sebastian said nothing at the praise, but the smile that drew up the corner of his lips was telling enough. He laid down on the bed, relaxing against the pillows and smiling at Jim invitingly.

Jim set the knife on the bedside table and unbuttoned his suit jacket and shirt, taking them off and folding them over the side of a chair. “Someone’s getting excited,” Jim purred, shooting a pointed look at Sebastian’s crotch.

“What can I say, Boss?” Sebastian replied cheekily. “You know how to excite me.”

Jim let out a chuckle and climbed onto the bed, straddling Sebastian at the knees. “Mmmhmm, now isn’t that true...” he picked up the knife and twirled it between his fingers. “I know _exactly_ how to excite you... and I know _exactly_ what you like. I think you deserve a _reward,_ Tiger.”

Sebastian tilted his head to the side. “What type of reward, Boss?” he asked curiously.

“Something to show you how much I own you every time you see it,” Jim replied, lowering the knife to Sebastian’s chest.

“I already know you own me, Boss,” Sebastian said tentatively. He wasn’t quite sure what Jim meant, and it was a little worrying. Yes, _he_ knew that he belonged wholly to Jim, but that didn’t mean he wanted the entire _world_ knowing.

“Hush. You’ll like it, Tiger, I promise~” Jim said to alleviate Sebastian’s fears.

Sebastian trusted Jim, most of the time, so he relaxed, watching Jim’s face as Jim began the first cut along Sebastian’s ribs. Sebastian let out a hiss at the pain, though it was mild compared to some of what he’d endured. Jim’s eyes remained fixed on his chest, and Sebastian’s gaze remained fixed on Jim’s eyes the entire time Jim was cutting. When Jim finished, his eyes met Sebastian’s, and he raised the knife to his mouth. Jim dragged his tongue along the flat of the blade, the hints of a smirk there, lapping up the blood slowly.

“You taste absolutely _delicious_ Tiger,” Jim purred, setting the knife beside him and leaning down to lathe the wounds with his tongue. “Now go look in the mirror.” Jim pushed himself up and got off Sebastian, running his tongue along his lips, the blood dribbling down his chin.

Sebastian swung his legs over the side of the bed and he entered the bathroom, a wide smile crossing his face when he saw the markings Jim had left.

**JM**

_fin_


End file.
